Holmes for the Holidays
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: After the phone call, it's Sherlock and Molly's first Christmas together as a couple. After inviting her to Sussex for Christmas with his parents, Sherlock is surprised when Molly refuses him. Will a bit of Christmas magic be enough to mend their relationship?
1. Last Christmas

There was a chill in the air, not only from the snow, but from the cold shoulder Molly had given him. He had invited her to spend Christmas with him and his family but what he didn't expect was for her to turn him down. His plans had failed before they even began. If she didn't want to spend the holiday with him, then obviously she wouldn't want to marry him. At least, that's what he thought as he added another nicotine patch on his arm. Sherlock felt his heart breaking, not for the first time that year.

As Molly stormed inside her flat in distress, she threw her keys on the counter and buried her head in her hands. She hated fighting with Sherlock; despite their friends' expectations, she and him didn't fight very often. It's not that she didn't want to spend Christmas with him—she definitely wanted to more than anything—but it was the fact she still couldn't get that one Christmas out of her head; the very one where her first attempt at giving him a gift had fallen apart with his cruel deductions. For a moment, she thought she had some sort of mild PTSD about Christmases and Sherlock, but soon found it to be a silly notion. But still, what if she did?

* * *

"Mummy?" Sherlock began over the phone. "She's not coming." He sounded so defeated.

"Did you two have a domestic?" Lydia Holmes asked.

"A bit of one, yeah," he replied. "There won't be marriage in my future yet." A silent pause, then, "or ever."

"Now don't you worry, you two will work it out before Christmas," she assured him. "Molly's crazy about you. Just give her some time."

"Alright," he agreed sadly. "Regardless of what happens, I'll still be there by Christmas Eve." When the call ended, he sent a text to Molly.

 **I'm sorry that we fought. If you truly don't want to come with me, I understand. Take some time for yourself, darling. Just know that I'll still be waiting. I love you. –SH xxx**

* * *

Molly had tears running down her face as she read the text from her love. She never meant to hurt him, but if she was to spend Christmas with him, she needed to get herself in a better mindset. After all, the last few times, the holiday ended in tears for her.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Molly's scared, naturally, of spending another Christmas with Sherlock. I'd be a bit anxious about it too after the disaster of the one at 221B.


	2. Meet the Holmeses

Molly had just finished up an autopsy, but couldn't keep her mind off of her love. Just like clockwork, the brooding detective came through the doors, but lacking the usual spring in his step. She could see the pain he felt when their eyes locked.

"Is that Eliot Smith?" he asked, pointing at the cadaver. Molly nodded. "I need to look him over for clues."

"Of course," she gave a small smile. "Just finished his autopsy. Obviously took a blow to the head."

"Yes, obviously, but there should be a mark on his wrist," Sherlock added. "He was high from the drugs when it happened."

"Mhmm, I have it on record here, actually," she showed him.

"Ah, thank you, Molly," he replied, looking over the report.

"Sherlock?" she asked in the same tone she used in the stairwell those years ago.

"Hm?" he sounded, still studying the information. His jaw dropped dramatically when she took his chin between her thumb and forefinger gently, making him look at her.

"I'm sorry that we fought the other day," she told him. "I don't like fighting with you, it's just Christmas and us in the same room never mixed well before." It was that moment that Sherlock realized Molly was hesitant to spend Christmas with him because of how their past ones played out. He had insulted her, quite cruelly, on one Christmas and killed Magnussen on another. It wasn't the best track record.

"My Molly," he spoke softly, wrapping her up in his arms. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I was an idiot that Christmas. I should have kissed you properly. There's absolutely nothing wrong with your mouth or your breasts, darling. I was being a jealous git and there was no excuse for my behaviour. You're so beautiful just the way you are. You have every reason to refuse spending the holiday with me, but if you choose otherwise, I promise you this Christmas will be different. And every Christmas from now on."

"Really?" she asked, keeping her tears at bay.

"Really," he assured her with a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

* * *

The following Friday, a black car that contained Mycroft and Sherlock had arrived at Molly's flat. The youngest Holmes exited the car to help her with her suitcase for the long Christmas weekend. After everything was packed away in the boot, Molly slid in the seat, sitting between the brothers, though she opted to sit more closely to Sherlock.

"What if they don't like me?" Molly asked, clearly worried.

"Nonsense," both Holmes brothers spoke in unison. Mycroft cleared his throat awkwardly, allowing Sherlock to continue the conversation.

"They're going to love you, Molly, trust me," Sherlock told her, squeezing her hand affectionately. "I adore you and so will they." This seemed to help her nerves as she finally relaxed beside him, eventually falling asleep for the rest of the car ride.

When they arrived, Sherlock helped Molly with her suitcase and they strolled up the little pathway up to the door where Mycroft was begrudgingly receiving a hug from their mum.

"Don't be such a Grinch, Mikey," she teased. "William, at last!" Molly felt her lips tug upward into a smirk at the sound of Sherlock's given name. "And you've brought your lovely girlfriend! It's so good to see you, dear!" Mrs. Holmes embraced them both in her arms.

"Good to see you too, Mrs. Holmes," Molly smiled.

"Well, come on in, you two," she urged them. "You'll catch your death out here." With Sherlock's hand gently pressing against the small of her back, leading her inside, Molly already felt happy to have accepted his invitation after all.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Things are looking up for the weekend ahead. Who thinks Molly's about to have the best Christmas ever?


	3. Christmas Eve Eve

"Are you going to join us, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked his brother. The Holmes parents and Molly were decorating the tree, as they had waited for their sons to arrive to do so.

"When have I ever participated in trimming the tree?" Mycroft asked.

"All throughout your childhood up until Eurus was taken away by Uncle Rudy. I am getting my memories back, mind you," Sherlock smirked. "You can no longer deny certain things."

"Why don't you pay more attention to Miss Hooper?" Mycroft told him.

"Just because you won't let go of your damn pride and tell Anthea how you really feel, doesn't mean you should take it out on the rest of us. I learned my lesson a long time ago," Sherlock huffed. "I'm going to finish decorating with our parents and my girlfriend. Just consider joining us and help me make this a good Christmas for her. Do it for Molly." He turned to see Molly laughing at whatever his mum had said to her, hanging an old childhood ornament.

Molly's eyes widened when she noticed Mycroft approaching with Sherlock to help with the tree.

"Nice of you to join us, son," Mr. Holmes told him, handing him an ornament. Stories were told, laughter was abundant and Molly was enjoying herself. Sherlock was too, if he was being honest. Christmas had been his favourite holiday as a child, and even with his darkest memories back, he wanted to embrace that magical feeling again.

* * *

When evening came around, they all gathered in the sitting room to watch Holiday Inn and White Christmas back to back. It was a family tradition and one that Mycroft enjoyed the best. Molly also had grown up with the classics, falling in love with them at a young age.

Sherlock ran his fingers through her hair, paying more attention to her than the movies. She looked happy and relaxed, but something kept niggling in the back of his mind. Despite her contentment with how the holiday weekend was going, he felt that maybe he shouldn't move so fast. After all, this was a gathering Molly had been hesitant about because she hadn't trusted him enough to not, as she put it, be a Scrooge about Christmas. So, how on earth would she ever trust him to make her happy and to be a good husband? These are the same fears that had him talking with his father late at night after everyone else was asleep.

"I just don't think it's the right time," Sherlock sighed. "What if she's not ready and she says no?"

"Answer me these two questions, son," Mr. Holmes began. "Are you ready for such a commitment?"

"Yes, of course I am," Sherlock replied without hesitance.

"You are, I can tell," Mr. Holmes smirked. It was the same smirk that Sherlock had. "If Molly isn't ready, though I'm sure she is, would you wait until she was ready?"

"I would wait lifetimes if it were possible," Sherlock answered. "If she chose to marry me the day before I died, I'd still be a happy man."

"A bit morbid, William, but your heart's in the right place," Lydia Holmes's voice spoke suddenly. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but your father knows I can't sleep without him." It was at that moment they heard soft footsteps come downstairs and Molly appeared beside Mrs. Holmes.

"Sorry to interrupt, but are you coming to bed soon, Sherlock? I can't quite sleep without you," Molly spoke softly.

"She's ready," Mr. Holmes told his son in a hushed tone.

"Sorry, ready for what?" Molly asked. It was up to mummy to save the conversation.

"Ready for bed, dear, of course," Mrs. Holmes covered for her husband and son. "After all, Father Christmas will come 'round soon."

* * *

Though Sherlock was now holding her in bed, spooned around her, Molly's mind was too awake. She knew he could sense her overthinking, but unlike other times, he didn't complain about her thinking too loudly. He was being patient with her, she could tell.

"Sherlock?" she called out quietly.

"Hm?" he mumbled against her neck. Molly shifted to turn around and face him.

"You know I love you, right?" she asked. "I mean, truly, unconditionally love you."

"Of course I do, Molly," he smiled. "I hope you know the same rings true for how I feel towards you."

"I know," she assured him. "I just wondered if you knew that I love you no matter what. I'm always yours, Sherlock. Always."

"And I am yours," he replied. "Always." They settled into a deep sleep. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and John was going to bring Rosie along. It was to be a lovely family gathering.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Something's up with Molly...do you think she suspects his fears or do you think she's having fears of her own?


	4. My Heart is Yours

"Happy Christmas!" John exclaimed when he entered the sitting room. Rosie ran straight to her Uncle Sherlock and Aunt Molly with glee.

"Santa's coming!" she squealed to them.

"Well—" Sherlock began but quickly shut up when Molly glared at him.

"Molls, can you help me with something?" John asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

"Sure, as long as Sherlock can keep an eye on Rosie," Molly replied. Sherlock waved them away, lifting the little Watson into his lap.

"I'm rubbish at wrapping gifts, so I thought you could help me wrap the gift Mary left behind for Rosie before…" John trailed off, still saddened over the loss of his wife, the mother of his daughter who looked more like her every day.

"It's alright, John, I'd be happy to help," Molly smiled sympathetically. She missed Mary too and wished she was here to spend Christmas with them all. "You know she's still here in spirit, in our hearts. Her memory is still alive." She gave him a friendly hug before heading upstairs to wrap the gift whilst John headed back into the sitting room.

* * *

As Molly wrapped Rosie's gift from her mum, she thought about the possibility of having children of her own. _His children_. The thought comforted her, but she wondered if he would even want to start a family together. Yes, Sherlock had matured a lot in the past few months—especially with his emotions—so it wouldn't be a far-fetched notion. A picture in her mind was conjured up of a curly haired boy with her brown eyes and little girl with long brown hair and cerulean eyes. For the first time, Molly realized how much she really wanted this—wanted them.

"Molly?" Sherlock called out to her, poking his head into the bedroom. "My mum wanted to talk to you. About what, I haven't the slightest idea, but when you're finished, she's in the kitchen baking pies."

"Alright, thank you," Molly replied. "Oh, and Sherlock?"

"Hm?" he sounded, stepping back into the room.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"For what?" he asked.

"For inviting me here for Christmas," she answered. "It's been so long since I've felt like I had a family and I love being with you during the holidays." He walked over to where she was sitting on the bed and wrapped her up in a warm embrace.

"I'm so happy you came along," he murmured against her hair. "I never want you to feel alone, darling. I'm always here for you. You're family. You always have been." Sherlock smiled when he felt her arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, her head resting against his abdomen.

"I love you," she spoke softly. He felt her press a kiss against his aubergine shirt that made his heart swell with love.

"Mm, I love you too, Molly Hooper," he replied. "I hope you don't mind, darling, I know we weren't going to do gifts this year, but I may have gotten you a couple of things."

"Well, I may have gotten you something as well," Molly told him. They were both laughing at the predicament.

"I would like to give the first one to you now," he told her. She watched as he procured a long, thin wrapped package from his pocket. He encouraged her with his eyes and carefully unwrapped it, revealing a velvet necklace box. Lifting the lid, Molly let out a quiet gasp. It was sterling silver necklace with a heartbeat charm. "I called in a favor from a doctor at Bart's to have a scan of what my heartbeat looks like when I'm talking to you. I had to call you for it to work, but that is my heart beating for you."

"Sherlock, this is beautiful," her voice trembled, tears of joy spilling over. "Thank you, bumblebee." He smiled at the nickname she had given him once he had taken to calling her his honeybee. His calloused fingers gently lifted the necklace out of the box and he clasped it around her neck, pressing a kiss to her pulse point. His fears were swept away just because of this small moment between them. He had high hopes that Molly would, in fact, agree to become the future Mrs. Holmes.

* * *

"Mrs. Holmes?" Molly called out, peering into the kitchen.

"Oh, come in dear," Lydia smiled. "I'm just getting these pies in the oven." Molly lifted a pie and an oven mitt to help the elderly woman.

"Sherlock said you wanted to see me," she continued.

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Holmes confirmed. "I wanted to say thank you for never giving up on my William. I know how much of a pain he can be, but you are a resilient one." This made Molly laugh.

"He may be difficult at times, but he's more than worth it," Molly replied.

"I haven't seen him this happy since he was a child, long before Victor disappeared," Lydia informed her. "He looks at you the way my husband has always looked at me. Boy looks just like his father, so I know."

"He has your eyes," Molly added. "Lovely eyes, may I add?"

"Thank you, dear," Lydia smiled. "I do hope you're enjoying yourself."

"Oh, it's been wonderful, Mrs. Holmes, I assure you," Molly told her. "It's been a little over a decade since my mum passed and about fifteen years since my dad passed. It feels nice to be part of a family again."

"And family is exactly what you are!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed. "Even if things don't work out between you two—though I highly doubt anyone or anything could separate the pair of you—you'll always be family to us." She finished wiping down the counter top and her eyes settled over the chain around Molly's neck. "That's a lovely necklace."

"Thank you," Molly smiled. "Sherlock just gave this to me a moment ago, actually."

"My son's a romantic just like his father, though he won't openly show it," Mrs. Holmes mused. "I used to be a bit closed off in my younger years, but Edmund softened me up eventually." The story sounded like her and Sherlock, except the roles were switched. In that moment, Molly prayed that she and Sherlock would still be this much in love when they were his parents' age. Why wait for him to make the first move? Molly decided she would propose to him. The worst that could happen is that he could say 'no' or say he's not ready. If it came it came to that, then fine, as long as she could be with him in whatever way possible.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So now, they're both planning on proposing haha! Who'll get the words out first? You can have a scan of your heartbeat turned into a necklace, by the way. It is entirely possible. And so romantic.


	5. Ginger Nuts for You

Evening came around and everyone was gathered in the sitting room, Rosie asleep in John's arms. The fire was crackling and Bing Crosby's White Christmas was playing on the radio at a low volume. Mrs. Holmes was showing Molly the family photo albums that included photos from an old beach trip and Christmases past. Eurus's pictures were also interspersed throughout now that Sherlock's memories were back.

Sherlock approached them where they sat on the sofa. Though Molly knew of his presence, she assumed he was there to keep his mum from showing too many photos, but that wasn't the case. Instead, he held his hand out to her. She looked up at him, meeting his adoring gaze, and took his hand. He pulled her upright and wrapped an arm around her waist snugly.

"Care to dance?" he asked her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Why, I'd love to," she smiled. Every step together was perfectly in sync. They danced their way across the sitting room, only aware of each other's presence. Molly let out a squeal when Sherlock spun her around and dipped her. From her viewpoint, she noticed the mistletoe right above them. That's when Sherlock caressed her lips with his. It was a soft, gentle kiss that left her wanting more. Bringing her back upright, a knock on the door sounded.

"Brother dear, you may want to answer that," Sherlock told him. Mycroft said nothing but a look of suspicion crossed his face as he went towards the door.

"What did you do?" Molly laughed quietly.

"I gave him his Christmas present," Sherlock replied. "Just wait and see." When Mycroft re-entered the room, Anthea was by his side.

"Sorry to intrude, but Sherlock called and said it was urgent," Anthea explained.

"Oh, you're not intruding at all!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed. "Come in, join us!"

"You invited Anthea?" Molly asked. "For Mycroft?"

"He just needed a bit of a push," he shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"That was really sweet of you, Sherlock," she told him. Mycroft's eyes met his little brother's and nodded a silent thank you to him.

* * *

Long after everyone had gone to sleep, telling Rosie that Santa was coming, Molly still found herself unable to sleep. Sherlock lay beside her, still holding her hand as he dozed away. Slowly and quietly, she unlaced their fingers and slipped out of bed, heading down to the kitchen. She sat at the counter, toying with one of the cookie sheets, thinking about making some ginger nut biscuits. They were Sherlock's favorite after all.

When Sherlock woke to find Molly wasn't beside him, he ventured downstairs to find her. He stopped at the doorway of the kitchen, watching as she took ingredients out of the refrigerator; ingredients for ginger nuts, to be precise.

"Need any help?" Sherlock asked, making her jump and nearly dropping the butter. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"S'alright," she giggled. "Could you grab the sugar and flour?" He did as she asked and set them on the counter. He preheated the oven to 180 degrees Celsius just as Molly began mixing everything together. He could smell the ginger she added in and was already hungry for his favourite biscuits. As she mixed the batter together, Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, moving her hair aside to press kisses against her neck.

"Mm, how did I get so lucky?" he murmured, trailing his lips across her skin.

"Not a clue," she teased, "but you need to stop distracting me."

"Or what?" he instigated further. Molly turned to face him and dotted the tip of his nose with batter.

"Or things will get very messy," she laughed.

"Two can play at that game," he told her, sprinkling some flour in her hair.

"Oh, you've asked for it now," she warned him.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "Let's actually make the biscuits first." This made her laugh so hard, she snorted.

"Should've known you couldn't go without your ginger nuts," Molly remarked. Sherlock helped her roll the dough into balls and he watched as she put the tray in for baking. He thought she looked lovely despite the sprinkling of flour he put throughout her hair. It gave him visions of them starting a family and growing old together. Everything about her put him at ease. She was his home. Molly turned, locking eyes with him. Just seeing him in front of her made her feel happy. He was her home.

"So I was thinking—" she began.

"Marry Me."

"What did you say?" Molly asked, not quite sure she heard him right. Sherlock's eyes widened, realizing that the words just slipped from his mouth.

"Will you marry me, Molly Hooper?" he whispered, his lips ghosting across hers.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," she laughed.

"So, is that a yes?" he asked, the most beautiful smile playing on his face.

"Yes, you silly man," she answered, snogging him properly.

"It must be Christmas," he quipped. A quick look at the clock showed it was after midnight.

"It most definitely is," Molly replied. They held each other in the kitchen, reveling in the small, happy moment. Sherlock would give her the ring when they returned to bed, but for now, he was content knowing she wanted him to be her husband.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Just one more chapter after this!


	6. A New Beginning

"Unca Wock! Auntie Mowwy!" Rosie exclaimed, climbing up onto their bed. "Santa came!"

"Did he now?" Molly asked sleepily.

"He did, he did! Unca Wock's gotta wake up!" Rosie told her.

"I promise I'll get him up," Molly said to her goddaughter. "Go on downstairs and we'll be right there." That was enough for the little Watson as she ran to the room she and her father were staying in. "Sherlock, darling, wake up." She nudged his arm but turned herself around to sprinkle kisses over his forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose and lips.

"Mmm, I could get used to waking up like that," he smirked cheekily at her.

"Good, cause you're stuck with me now," she giggled. "C'mon, our goddaughter is quite eager to open her gifts."

They gathered with everyone else downstairs in front of the tree. Mrs. Holmes loved the jumper Molly had knitted for her and Sherlock was more than delighted that she had knitted him a new scarf in oxford blue. He was sure he wouldn't wear another scarf again. Sherlock and Molly watched in delight as Rosie opened up her gift from them, a teddy bear with a deerstalker upon its head.

"Unca Wock bear!" she smiled. "Thank you!" Rosie hugged them both before cuddling her new bear. They all looked on as the little girl was handed another gift.

"This is from your mummy, Rosie," John told her. "She picked this out for you almost a year ago."

"I miss mummy," she said softly, opening up the gift with more care than most two year olds could. The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a recordable storybook of _'Twas the Night Before Christmas._

"You see, Rosie, mummy recorded herself reading this story to you so you could always have her read you to sleep," John explained to her, choked up. Rosie pressed the button to play and Mary's voice came alive through the speaker. There wasn't a dry eye in the room; even Mycroft and Anthea were nearly crying. Molly, John and Sherlock definitely were along with Rosie. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes held their tears back in favor of wanting to comfort the others should they require it.

So, they all sat and listened to Mary read the story aloud, watching as Rosie flipped through the pages accordingly. She was a strong little girl, caught between wanting to cry and smile. At one point, they had all hoped against all odds that Mary might have faked her death and she would come back soon like Sherlock had, but it was not to be.

"I wuv you, mummy," they heard Rosie whisper when the story ended. The little girl's eyes widened when she noticed the sparkling vintage rose gold ring on her Aunt Molly's finger. "You're getting married!?" Rosie was quick to approach Molly and lift her hand up higher, inspecting the ring. Everyone in the room had their eyes locked on the pretty Holmes family heirloom that now decorated Molly's finger.

"Weren't you going to propose with all of us present?" Mrs. Holmes questioned.

"Well, I was going to but it sort of slipped out last night," Sherlock explained. "I couldn't help myself; I had absolutely no control in the situation."

"To be fair, I was going to ask him last night as well," Molly laughed. "We started talking at the same time!" This lightened the mood and everyone joined in with laughter and amusement.

"I hope you two plan to give me a grandbaby," Mrs. Holmes teased.

"Oh, I was thinking two or five," Sherlock remarked.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes," Molly scolded him, quickly losing her faked anger. "The more, the merrier."

"Watch out world, the Holmes family line will soon rule the world," John joked.

* * *

 _Five years later…_

The three year old twins, Charlotte and Victor, were playing with their gifts in the sitting room of 221B whilst their parents sat in front of the fireplace, Sherlock in his chair and Molly on his lap. She had just finished her newest essay to be submitted in one of the most prestigious medical journals in London and Sherlock was reading it with enthusiasm. Both of them had a hand on the soft swell of her tummy, three months pregnant with their daughter, whom they were naming Lydia Rosemary Holmes.

After tucking their children into bed later that night, the pair of them cuddled a bit on the sofa watching the later airing of the Doctor Who Christmas special. Molly had gotten Sherlock addicted to the show a few months before they married and it was always tradition for them.

"What's this?" Sherlock asked very suspiciously. Molly glanced over at him, noticing the gift in his hand, wrapped in gold with a red ribbon. "Merry Christmas, Molly Holmes." She began unwrapping the gift and let out a soft gasp when she realized what it was.

"A Christmas Carol," she muttered to herself. "This looks like the exact one my father had passed down to me." Sherlock leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"That's because it is the exact one, darling," he told her. "Look inside the cover." When she did as he suggested, she saw the inscription of her father's name, Edward Hooper, and her inscription that she added herself at the age of eight.

"How did you find this?" she cried. "I lost it long ago. Oh, Sherlock, thank you!" Molly threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his neck. She murmured soft thank yous and I love yous, interspersing them with kisses.

"I had a bit of help from my homeless network," he explained. "I thought you should have it back. It was the only thing you had left of your father aside from photos."

"He would've loved you like his own, you know," Molly informed him. "He would've seen how wonderful you are, just as I do."

"I love you, honeybee," he smiled.

"And I you. Merry Christmas, my darling husband," she smiled back, completely wrapped up in bliss.

"Say, we'll have to look into expanding this flat or rather look into a cottage soon," Sherlock realized.

"Goodness, you really want those five kids," Molly laughed, remembering the Christmas they had gotten engaged during. They laughed together, warmed not by the fire, but by the love and happiness in their hearts.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** You can buy recordable storybooks btw! They're ever so cute! I have a photo of Molly's engagement ring added at the end of this chapter on Ao3 if you wanna check it out! What did y'all think? Let me know your favorite moments! Did you cry? Laugh?


End file.
